


Blood and Whisky

by sailsandanchors



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/M, No actual sex, Tumblr request, general dark kinkiness, laheyperfection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailsandanchors/pseuds/sailsandanchors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison needs his help and he is more than willing to lend a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood and Whisky

She hisses sharply as it sets fire to her back and words of concern dance on his lips.

She showed weakness, even if it was just for a second.

He knows she didn’t want to.  

That she was too proud to admit loss of control, even if it was a natural reaction.

So he makes no comment and continues his ministrations in silence.

He takes a swig and empties the gin bottle in his hand before tossing it aside, next to her ruined shirt and broken crossbow.

It’s been a long time since he’s done this.

Large hands move over delicate skin, his fingers gripping her, holding her in place. 

He can hear her heart beat, feel it drum louder and louder, faster and faster.

This she can’t control.

This is her blood calling, screaming for action.

He steadies himself and enters, piercing her slowly.

Another hiss and he wonders what made her trust him with this.

Beads of sweat accumulate on his forehead, his eyes fixed in concentrated effort.

He can see her gripping the edge of the table, knuckles going white.

Her head drops and her hair follows, exposing her long neck.

Her breaths are becoming more ragged.

She smells of blood, alcohol and adrenaline.

It’s making him dizzy.

A small drop of blood runs down her side and he wants to stop it with his tongue.

She doesn’t want to lose control, but he can’t afford to.

They’re running on the edge together.

He wonders if she knows and he continues, curving in and out of her, marking her skin.

Her back looks angry and swollen, but he is finally done.

He rips his shirt up and tries to wrap it around her, covering the wound.

She lifts her arms and lets him, his fingers brushing over her ribcage.

She lets out a gasp and it furrows his brows.

His senses tell him it’s not in pain and he almost drops the material.

"Thanks for stitching me up, Hale."


End file.
